It is strange being a Stay-at-home-Dad. For instance a chant of "ihopeiwinatoaster, ihopeiwinatoaster" floating up the basement steps. My nearly seven [eight] (now nine) ((now ten)) [[eleven]] {twelve} year-old twin boys concoct, devise, arrange, invent, write, say, imagine and dream the damndest things. Things that make me wonder. Ideas and stories that I may think on for days after I encounter them. I'll share some here. They made me do this.
Essential. Childhood. Nonsense. Explained.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

"Memorise This Moment"

Some guys seem able to throw a blog post together in no time.

Not me.

However, sometimes they sorta write themselves.

Nick and Zack have been working as a songwriting duo for many years now really (how is it possible to write many years in conjunction with my babies?). When they were little they would start singing short made-up songs - think Children of the Corn or Gregorian chants - mostly in the backseat, mostly at full volume, mostly mind numbingly repetitive and inexplicable. Recently, though, they've been getting their Rogers and Hart on.

Here are three examples, they like to use a word program on the computer to finalize them, they don't really understand the "save as" function so, I am usually left unable to find them so, I scan them. I like scanning. So, with no further ado, except to say "no further ado" and in no particular order:

Yeah, apparently there is a "hopelessly romantic" gene. "I love the way you look at me easy and smooth I love you 'cause we flow together." Memorize this moment, Dad.

"I don't want to say, say, say but I think I may, may, may." Seriously, these are better than most boy band songs.

You write a better line than "ho-ho-ho-holiday spirit." Go ahead, I'll wait...

Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for bloggers to, well, exaggerate a little in their writings. You know, stretch the truth or, for real, just make everything up. I have manged to avoid that so far, but, honestly, this seems, well, fabricated.

It's not. Here are the early drafts, made by two hopelessly sweet, dear-hearted, cute, cute, cute little boys:

Sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry at their creativity, their preciousness, their souls. I choose to laugh most of the time, mostly because if I start to cry I don't know when I might stop.

From Marci's "... things you don't expect to hear from the back seat ...""When you are fishing from the moon, you need a really long line."